


Sugar and Spice

by colormyheartred



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Banter, Bickering, F/M, Food Trucks, Rivalry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 13:59:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7511044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colormyheartred/pseuds/colormyheartred
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma, Roland, and Elsa own a struggling bakery called Happy Endings Bakery in Boston. Things get a little bit dicey when a food truck called The Jolly Roger parks immediately in front of their store. (so, basically, rival shop owners au with lots of banter)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sugar and Spice

Happy Endings Bakery has been Emma Swan’s child for much of her adult life.

After finishing her business degree, she’d decided to open her own shop in Boston with her close friends Roland Hood and Elsa Arendelle, both of whom attended college with her.

They’d have bake-offs on weeknights in combination with their studying sessions and they’d eventually opened up a business on campus with their baked goods.

It was Elsa’s idea to call it Happy Endings Bakery, a bit of a whimsical idea she’d had that the people who came to their store would find themselves not just the perfect treat but also maybe friendship.

With Roland’s help, they were able to design logos and business cards and tee shirts. He’s responsible for the advertising of their bakery as well as working the customers when they come in.

Emma’s passion is in the back, where she can bake and create treats. Sometimes she likes to linger out front, watching as people filter in and out of her store. Her favorite thing is when little kids come in and beg for literally everything they set eyes on. Emma likes to give them sample cookies just to see how their eyes light up.

Their quaint little shop is positioned in between a furniture shop and a thrift store, and business is hard, but they do have their regular stream of customers, as well as plenty of new visitors on a daily basis.

Mary Margaret is one of the regulars. She always comes in at seven, just as the delivery guy David shows up with their fresh daily requirements.

On this particular day, Emma arrives running late after her alarm apparently decided to not go off. She was supposed to be at the shop around five thirty, but it is currently six forty five and she’s fairly certain Roland is going to be pissed.

She has her phone against her ear as she rushes through the back door and Elsa gives her a frantic look, flailing her arms around as Emma slows to a stop beside her.

“You gotta give me this, Victor,” Emma pleads, and then lowers her phone as Victor rambles on about how her rent is late and how she’s going to be evicted soon if they don’t pay up.

Elsa’s panicked expression creates a knit in her brow. She already has flour in her hair and on her cheeks from being here at the crack of dawn so their bread is fresh, and her voice is a hushed whisper, “Emma, there’s a problem.”

“What?” Emma mouths. “What is it?”

“Remember that wedding cake that the couple asked for with the specialty lace design?” Emma winces as Elsa continues, “They called this morning. Apparently the wedding’s off so they don’t need a cake.”

Emma closes her eyes and her heart falls to her gut. Being a small business owner is definitely not as easy as one, two, three. It never has been. They’ve been in the red for a while now and it’s awful, because this is her lifeblood.

She spends more than three quarters of her day here in this back room, solving problems, making pastries, and managing the money.

“I promise you I’ll pay you by the end of this week,” Emma tells Victor. “I just need a little more time. Please. Remember you owe me?”

Victor Whale sighs. “Yeah, yeah. Fine. The end of the week.”

“Thank you,” Emma smiles. “I’ll talk later. Got a store to run here.” She hangs up without any other pretense and sighs with Elsa. “Okay. So we’re just going to need to kick ass with those fliers.”

Elsa sighs. “Emma, how bad is it, really?”

Emma shakes her head. “It’s fine. We’re going to be fine. Where’s Roland?”

Emma grabs her apron from the hanger by the door that leads into the main store and ties it on behind her as she enters. Roland’s setting out the cupcakes and his wild dark curls are tied up into a ponytail that he keeps under a hair net.

“Emma,” he says when he sees her. He settles the last rocky road cupcake down and shakes his head at her. “So are you going to explain where you were or-”

“It wasn’t my fault,” Emma informs him. She grabs a pair of fresh gloves from the box by the cash register and goes to help him with the cupcakes. “My alarm clock broke apparently.”

“Right,” Roland says, narrowing his eyes slightly.

She nudges him with her elbow and rolls her eyes. “Roland why do you always assume I’m hooking up with Walsh from next door?”

“Because he’s always in here asking for you,” Roland glares at her. “And he’s not good for you, so that’s a no, Miss Swan. I don’t approve of him.”

Emma hums. She settles some s’mores cupcakes into the case and then turns to call out to Elsa, “Hey, Els? Can you let David in? He should be here like now.”

“Yeah!”

Emma wipes her fingers on her apron and hurries around the bar to go open the shop. “Roland you-”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Roland says as she’s walking toward the front door. “And yes. I did all of the things required to open. Like I have every day since we started.”

Emma flashes him a smile. “Thank you.” As she stands at the front door and flips the ‘Open’ sign over, she sighs. “Well, it’s Monday, so maybe that ad we placed will get us some new customers.”

As soon as Emma makes her way back around the bar, the bell above the door tinkles and Mary Margaret Blanchard enters, her smile spread wide and her cheeks rosy.

“Good morning!” she comes straight up to the counter and clasps her hands together. “Roland, just so you know, I saw your ad in the paper and I also saw it on Facebook. Admirable work.”

Mary Margaret starts to clap for him and Emma smiles at how her best friend blushes softly.

Roland grins, his cheeks dimpling sweetly, and he stops what he’s doing just so he can bow to her. “Thank you, thank you. I do my best work when Emma’s yelling at me.”

Emma rolls her eyes and swats the back of his head. “Get back to work. We need to have the cinnamon rolls and muffins ready too.” She glances down into the case and her face falls. “Oh.”

Roland laughs. “C’mon, Emma, I take care of you.”

“You do,” Emma confirms with a small smile. She turns to Mary Margaret. “Okay. You want your regular?”

Mary Margaret nods her head simply. “Yes. Please. And I would also like an extra loaf of cinnamon bread. For my new neighbor.”

Emma gets to work, grabbing Mary Margaret her standard bread and cinnamon roll to go, and she brings them to the register as Mary Margaret breathes in deep.

“This place always smells so nice, Emma. I would hate it if you had to close.”

“Yeah, well, that makes two of us.”

“Three!” Roland says, gathering up the now empty trays in his hands. “And I’m sure Elsa would concur.”

“What would I concur with?” Elsa’s voice carries from the back as Roland heads that way.

“If we closed.”

“Oh, definitely.”

“I mean, it’s the place I fell in love,” Mary Margaret says with a whimsical look in her eyes. “I would _never_ have met David if I hadn’t found your bakery.” Emma gives her a look, but Mary Margaret tilts her head at her. “And! And, you make the _best_ cinnamon rolls.”

“Mhm,” Emma hums as she takes Mary Margaret’s card and slides it through the reader. “You know, you don’t have to come here to sneak a look at him anymore. You’re basically married.”

Mary Margaret shrugs as a blush crawls up her cheeks. “I don’t know. I kind of like the romance of it. Only getting to see each other first thing in the morning at the place where we fell in love.”

Emma sighs as the back door opens and she turns in time to see David coming in with his clipboard. “Hey, Emma. Good morning.”

“Good morning, David. What’s the damage today?”

David shrugs. “Same as usual.”

Emma signs her name where he points and then she watches as David’s attention goes to Mary Margaret.

“Hey, stranger.”

“Well, hello.” Mary Margaret says coyly. She giggles when David leans across her counter to kiss his fiancée and Emma just throws her head back.

“Can you guys quit being like this? We have customers.”

Emma glances over at the door when the bell tinkles. An older woman enters the shop, giving the air a sniff with her eyes closed.

“Oh, Emma,” Mary Margaret sighs. “One of these days I’ll set you up with someone wonderful and you’ll thank me for it.”

As Emma heads toward the new customer, outside of the ceiling-to-floor windows, the biggest food truck pulls up directly in front of her store and parks.

Her eyes blow open wide at the sight of the driver appearing to have absolutely no qualms about it as he whips out of his chair and goes into the back.

“Roland!” she calls, turning around. She pushes into the back room, ignoring the two lovebirds flirting. “Come out here and serve the customers, please. I have hell to raise.”

Roland sighs heavily from his spot hauling in bags of flour. “Well, at least you said please this time.”

Emma whirls back around and slips out from behind the counter, purposeful. Her jaw is set as she storms toward the front door, but she manages a smile at the customers that enter her shop.

“Good morning,” she bids them, though her mind is set on this asshole with his truck parked in front of her storefront.

The storefront that took months to get just right. The storefront she spent hours laboring over. The storefront that sells their image and their product to potential passersby.

“Hey!” Emma calls as soon as she’s out on the sidewalk. She approaches the truck with haste, her scowl firm and her fists hard.

The Jolly Roger is the name of this food truck and she has to roll her eyes. She fearlessly goes to the door and beats on it twice, then steps back.

As soon as the door opens, a man in all dark black steps out. He’s wearing an apron around his hips, but a black v-neck reveals chest hair. Around his neck he wears a chain necklace, and on his lips there’s a smirk while one of his eyebrows does something devilish on his forehead.

His eyes are piercing her soul, and his hair is a wicked wild mess.

Damn it all to hell. He’s much more than she’d bargained for.

“We’re not quite open yet, lass,” he says on a chuckle. “I’m still waiting for my associates to arrive.”

Well, his accent certainly wasn’t anticipated.

Emma gives him a look as she gestures to the shop behind her. “That’s my store. You’re blocking it. Get out of the way.”

The man stares up at her sign and his smile spreads. “You’re awfully chipper this morning, love.”

Then he’s stepping back into his truck and she’s left standing there with wide eyes.

“Excuse me!” she calls, banging her fist on the wall of his truck. “You can’t just stay parked here. Aren’t there rules about this sort of a thing?”

The man returns in a heartbeat carrying a chalkboard sign. She’s in his way, so he says, “Pardon, darling,” and then she’s suddenly backing out of _his_ way so he can set up his food truck for the day.

Emma gapes at him as he hangs the menu board on the side of his truck, and holds her arms out when he turns back to her.

“You can’t park here,” she snaps at him.

The man releases a sigh and folds his strong arms against his chest, his thumbs pressing against the pocket of his armpits. He tosses his head up the road. “We typically park up a ways, but there’s construction, so we’ll be parking here now.”

Emma gives him a look. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing.”

“I _think_ I’m running a business,” he smiles at her. He steps toward her so they’re practically toe-to-toe, and his smirk returns as his eyebrows dance. “And I think you’re going to let me.”

“No I’m not,” she informs him firmly. “Because you’re not allowed to park in front of my store. Get the hell out of this spot.”

“Who are you going to call, love? The city?”

Emma narrows her eyes at him. “I could.”

“I would love to see you get on the phone and summon someone from the Boston Permitting Office to come down here and give me a verbal warning.” He taunts her with a smile. “Maybe while they’re here I’ll give them a free lunch.”

Emma’s nostrils flare and she shakes her head at him. “Okay. Then move out of the kindness of your heart. I can’t afford you being parked in front of my building. People look at the sign and they see bakery and they think, ‘oh, I’d really like a cookie right about now,’ or, ‘wow, some fresh bread would be great,’ and then they come in. That’s how it works. If they can’t see it, they can’t do that.”

Her counterpart is just staring at her with playfulness in his gaze, as if he finds her completely adorable, and Emma feels just slightly like she’s being played, so she straightens her back and grits her teeth at him.

“Is that what they think?” he wonders.

Emma rolls her eyes and groans. “Okay, smart ass, get out of this damn parking spot or I’ll hijack your truck and drive it into the harbor.”

He lifts his eyebrows, laughing. “Is that a threat?”

Emma narrows her eyes slightly at him. “Maybe.”

He hums. “I see.” She stares at him as he takes in a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll move. But only out of the kindness of my heart.”

Emma watches him as he takes down his chalkboard and she breathes, finally, in relief. “Good.”

The man laughs at her and shakes his head slightly. “Perhaps next time we butt heads you’d like something to eat.”

“Probably not,” she informs him. “I don’t eat food prepared by assholes that park in front of my store.”

He clicks his tongue against his cheek. “Damn. And here I thought I’d made a friend.” He clutches one hand over his heart in sorrow while he frowns sadly. “Well, I guess this is farewell. I’ll see you around, Bakery Girl.”

“In your dreams, Food Truck Guy.” Emma rolls her eyes.

She catches the smirk he gives her before she turns around and she’d be lying if she didn’t think he wasn’t just the slightest bit charming, what with the British accent and the banter to match her own.

Emma shakes her head as she enters her store again and Mary Margaret’s sitting at one of the tables with David, who lifts an eyebrow at her.

“Who was that?” Mary Margaret wonders as she stares over her shoulder at the windows.

Emma turns back only to ensure that the idiot is actually leaving and sighs with relief when she sees that he is.

“Nobody,” Emma informs Mary Margaret. She gives the pair a warning look. “And stay out of my love life, you guys. I don’t need anyone to be happy. I have a good thing going here.”

Mary Margaret hums as she lifts her mug of hot chocolate to her lips. “Well, he was kind of cute, don’t you think, Emma?”

Emma scoffs. “Like hell he was.”

Her friend just smiles and Emma groans, throwing her head back as she turns toward the counter again. There’s a small line of customers being served and Roland seems busy, but Elsa’s busier, working on drinks and calling out numbers.

The problem with serving breakfast is that people come in looking for coffee. The machines cost a fortune but they’ve paid themselves off, even if they’re currently looking at a pretty steep debt.

They really need new staff but they can’t afford it.

“I’m going to work,” Emma tells Mary Margaret. “Come by later?”

Mary Margaret smiles. “I always do.”

///

Killian Jones sighs as he opens up the truck door. It’s been a long time coming to get to this point.

The Jolly Roger has been his each and every breath for years, and now that things are finally stabilizing to the point of becoming overwhelming, he’s finally able to take a load off and rest.

Getting the boot from the fiery Bakery Girl had been rather unexpected. He’d thought that she would have known of him, at the very least, because his truck has been making a huge splash in the local Boston food arena, but apparently she had no idea about his truck or about him and was just eager to get him out of the way.

It’s fine, though, because at least he was able to find himself a decent parking spot nearby.

As he’s hanging the blackboard for the menu Ariel will write out for the day, he spots Smee walking toward him with a shake of his head.

“I thought we’d be further back,” Smee shrugs his shoulders as he looks around. “But I guess this works too.”

Killian grins. “Aye, Smee. Apologies. I was told to get lost rather rudely by one of the shop owners.”

Smee hums in understanding. He fidgets with his bag over his shoulder and sighs. “Well, I should get the grill fired up, huh? Get some patties going?”

Killian bobs his head. “That you should, Mister Smee.”

It’s then that he notices Ariel and her husband, Eric, coming toward them. It makes him sick to his stomach, seeing a love like theirs day in and day out, but Ariel was there for him at the beginning of this business venture, and he wasn’t about to exclude her from helping when she so desperately wanted to.

She’s a sweet girl, with red hair and a kind smile. Her heart is far kinder, even if she has a mean slap.

“Good morning boys!” Ariel says as she and her husband come to a stop before the truck.

“Morning, Ariel,” Smee says.

Killian manages to smile. “Morning, love.”

He averts his gaze when Eric leans in to murmur something to his wife before giving her a kiss goodbye. Ariel takes a steadying breath and clasps her hands together after he leaves.

“Alright. What did we decide for a menu today, guys?”

After things get rolling and their first few customers have come through, Killian leans through the window during a pause and just watches foot traffic.

A petite brunette in a flowery dress comes toward the truck and smiles widely at him, as if she’s up to something.

“Good afternoon,” she says kindly.

Ariel, whose job is to take the orders, is currently worrying herself over perfecting her penmanship on the menu so she doesn’t look up from her current task, instead leaving him the honors.

To his surprise, the woman doesn’t look at the menu. She just pushes up on her toes as she stands before him, as if surveying him.

“Afternoon, love,” Killian grins. “What can I do for you?”

The woman smiles sweetly. “Well, I have a friend that you met earlier this morning at the bakery.”

“Ah,” Killian’s eyes widen as he takes a half step back and settles his palms down on the countertop. “Has she sent you out on surveillance to ensure I don’t steal her customers somehow?”

She laughs. “No. No. I’m here… to see if you’re single.”

Killian chuckles. “Aye. I am. Is your friend interested?”

The woman hums, but doesn’t answer his question, instead asking him, “Would you mind parking in front of the bakery again tomorrow morning?”

Killian gives her a look. “While I do enjoy riling beautiful women up at seven in the morning, I don’t think your friend would very much appreciate it again.”

“Handsome and a gentleman,” the woman says with a nod. Killian can’t help but smile. “Okay. Well, maybe, if tomorrow morning you feel like having a cup of hot chocolate and a muffin… and it just so _happens_ that you park your truck outside of the bakery… then _perhaps_ I might be happy to buy you breakfast.”

Killian peels back a wry grin. “You’re very sweet, but even I have my limits.”

“Mm,” the woman hums. She glances down the road toward the bakery. “I looked you up. You’re quite popular in Boston.”

“Aye,” Killian nods. He folds his arms and leans forward. “You’re lucky. You’re here before it gets wild.”

“Well,” she says as she glances at the chalkboard. “I’ll have your favorite burger with French fries, please. It’s the least I can do for taking up your time.”

She’s pleasant company, Bakery Girl’s friend, and he finds that he quite appreciates her willingness to try to help her friend find love.

Love is such funny word. He hasn’t had it in years and he doubts he ever could again.

But Bakery Girl is bloody gorgeous and she’s quite feisty. If anything, he’d like to see if he can’t get her to curse him out.

///

She’s been working for a few hours by the time she opens for the day and everything is in place for a good day.

Yesterday had been fair, but it certainly wasn’t great by any stretch of the imagination. After their typical breakfast crowd, things died down and never really picked up again.

Emma leaves the front to Roland and Elsa while she fills a few cake orders in the back and listens to her iPod. David shows up at one point and she signs her name for him, but she’s otherwise in the zone.

“Hey, Emma,” Roland says as he enters the back kitchen. “I think you’re going to want to come out front.”

Emma gives him a look. “Why?”

“Food Truck Guy is back,” Roland states. “And… he’s looking for you?”

Emma’s eyes widen and she sets down her decorating bag. She wipes her hands before turning off the music and then she follows Roland out into the store.

She really shouldn’t be surprised to see Food Truck Guy standing outside of his truck, smirking, wearing the same uniform as he had the day before.

The second she steps outside, he says, “What’ll it be, love?”

Emma gives him a look. “Move your damn truck!”

She honestly could care less that there are people moving back and forth between them. She goes to him and shakes her head.

“Why did you come back?”

Food Truck Guy winks at her. “Construction, as I said yesterday. And, last time I checked, this is a free country, lass.”

Emma tilts her head at him, scowling. “Fine. Stay.” She bites down on her tongue as she steps back. “It’s just my livelihood you’re ruining here.”

The man hums and nods his head. She only just then notices the cup of coffee in his hands, coffee from _her_ shop, and her eyes widen angrily.

“I’d _love_ to stay. Thank you for allowing it, darling.” Food Truck Guy grins. “You won’t be sorry. I promise you.”

And then he has the gall to have a sip of her coffee in front of her while holding her eyes.

Emma curls her fingers into fists and growls as she turns around.

“You look lovely today!” he calls after her, just as she opens the bakery door.

Emma just rolls her eyes and heads to the kitchen, intent on baking until she feels better, because _he_ is the very worst person in the world and she doesn’t even want to consider what will happen after today.

///

Killian bites down on his lip as he stares into the bakery.

It’s been a few hours since they’d spoken and he finds that he sort of misses her, with her angry eyes and cute frustrated tilt to her head.

The lunch rush is officially on. People flood up to his open truck willing to pay good money for his product and he’s always kind and courteous.

He’s started to realize that Bakery Girl isn’t exactly the most popular location in town, despite having rather delicious pastries and great service. But some of his customers, once they’ve had their meals, go into her shop.

It sparks an idea in his mind, and as he’s handing an order to a customer, he says, “Ariel?”

His coworker spins around and smiles back at him. “Yes?”

“Why don’t we give Happy Endings a bit of free advertising?”

Her smile spreads and she glances back at the bakery. “I think I know just the thing. I had a  _really_ good cupcake here last night.”

///

Roland bursts into the kitchen as Emma frosts the last of the cupcakes for an order. He looks frantic, his eyes wide and his jaw slackened.

“Why do you look like a crazy person right now?” Emma asks as she sets her frosting bag down.

Roland shakes his head slowly. “Emma, we have a line. Going out the door. Down the block.”

It takes her a few moments to comprehend what he’s saying, and then her eyes get bigger and she gapes at him. “What? A line?”

The only time they’ve ever had a line was a few weeks ago, one Saturday morning when a local radio station announced their grand opening discount.

Emma skirts around the counter and wipes her hands on her apron as she heads back out into the main store, where Elsa is frantically filling orders. People fill every space possible and Emma’s eyes somehow widen even more.

“What the hell is happening?” she asks Roland, who just slowly shakes his head.

“I have no idea.”

Emma manages to pick her jaw off of the floor and help. They move flawlessly as a team, getting customers what they’d like and helping them pay.

It takes a little while to get the store clear, but by the time that it is, they have a cash register full of money, and they’ve had to actually bake more goods in order to keep up with the flow.

Emma leans against Roland when the last customer leaves and Elsa flips the sign over to indicate that they’re closed.

They’re exhausted, sweaty, and just a little bit grimy.

“We need help,” Emma sighs.

“Not as badly as we need to thank Food Truck Guy,” Roland states as Emma pulls away from him. She furrows her brow at him. “He’s the one who sent them.”

Emma turns away from Roland, instead looking out the window to see Food Truck Guy laughing as he serves a customer.

Her heart swells unexpectedly for this man, whom she had originally _hated_ , but now, he isn’t so bad.

Emma bites on her lower lip and steps toward the front door, unlocking it so she can go outside.

She stares up at Food Truck Guy for a few moments as he finishes up with a customer and his smile spreads when he sees her.

“What’ll it be, then, love?”

Emma glances over at the red haired woman standing by the menu sign. She has a sweet smile on her lips as she watches Emma.

“Um…” Emma turns back to Food Truck Guy. “Was all of this you?” She gestures broadly toward her store. “Did you… how did you get all of these people?”

Food Truck Guy grins, dimples popping forth in his cheeks. “Ah… my truck is quite popular, I suppose. We’ve got a following and… we may have Tweeted about your shop. Perhaps we even discounted our famous meal deal if customers came to us with your receipts.”

Her jaw falls open and she honestly doesn’t know what to do with herself. She hasn’t ever met someone so giving before in her life.

Her eyelashes flutter rapidly as she tries to understand _why_ he’d do this for her, and then she meets his eyes and a smile tugs wider at his lips. He holds his hand out to her.

“I’m Killian,” he says kindly.

She blinks up at him slowly and looks at his hand before shaking it. His palms are firm and calloused and his fingertips are gentle, much like the look in his eyes. “Emma.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Emma,” Killian’s voice is warm, moving like honey around her name, and she swallows thickly.

“Yeah,” she manages to say. “Um… I… should go.”

Killian looks offended. “What? You don’t want a burger? I’d give it to you free of charge, love. We’re practically business partners.”

Emma takes a look at the menu and back at him. “Okay. Give me your favorite, hot shot. Let’s see how good it really is.”

He pulls on a wicked grin and turns back to his partner in the truck. “Mister Smee, two patties please!”

“Aye aye, Captain.”

Emma lifts her eyebrows at Killian and he just shrugs his shoulders at her. “Your friend came to me yesterday,” he explains. “She said she’d heard of us and asked me if I’d consider coming back.”

Emma narrows her eyes skeptically at him. “Did she, now?”

He hums. “Aye.”

“Did she also mention how single I was? Because that’s kind of her prerogative.”

Killian barks a laugh. “It may have come up.”

Emma rolls her eyes. “So you did this to get in my pants. Nicely played, Food Truck Guy.”

Now it’s Killian’s turn to roll his eyes. He leans forward on his arms. “No, love, I did it out of the kindness of my heart.”

“Do you tell all of the girls that?” she wonders.

Killian hums a laugh as his partner hands him a burger. “Darling, I don’t usually help struggling businesses get back on their feet.”

Emma just watches him as he decorates her burger, and then as he expertly wraps it and settles it in a little paper basket with fresh fries. He slides it forward.

“Here we are,” he says lowly. “And…” He grabs a Sharpie, scribbles something down on the side of the basket, and smiles. “There. You’re all set, love.”

Emma grabs the tray and catches a delicious whiff of it. “Tell your friend I said thank you, by the way.”

She furrows her brow at him. “For what?”

Killian just winks at her and she slowly turns away. She waits until she’s inside to check the side of the paper basket for what he’d so eagerly scribbled down.

She isn’t let down to see his phone number along with the short message: _Text me sometime, Bakery Girl?_

Emma sighs. “Only if your burger is half as good as you seem to believe.”

///

_Hey Food Truck Guy._

_Hey Bakery Girl. I’m glad to hear from you. Did you enjoy the burger?_

_It was alright._

_Mm. Shall I park in front of your store tomorrow or would you rather me get lost?_

_I think there’s space out front. If you send me lunch._

_As you wish._


End file.
